The Dress
by GiveHerBovril
Summary: Deryn gets ready for the big day, and hijinks ensue. Fluff! Just a couple of shortie chapters I wrote in my head on the bus one day. This is my first fanfic and my first creative writing in many, many years, so please be nice! *I own nothing. Obviously, or this wouldn't be fanfic. :) **Last (written) chapter is up! I may or may not write more one day but this is it for now. Enjoy!
1. Chapter 1

Deryn stole another glance at herself in the mirror. It had been three years since she'd seen herself in a dress, and that time was mostly just for laughs. And to see Alek's reaction, of course. Now here she was again, but this time it wasn't a joke. This time it was also her choice. Deryn reckoned if there was any occasion to put on a frock, it may as well be for her wedding day. Not only would it make her Ma happy, but it would delight her fiancé, and she couldn't wait to see the look on his face when he saw her. She could handle wearing a gown for Alek for a few hours on her wedding day.

At least, this is what Deryn reminded herself as she appraised her reflection in the mirror, trying to push away her doubts. She just wasn't sure she recognized herself. Granted, the dress was a simple affair, with no extra frills or layers if they could be helped. The fashions in England had largely simplified in the last few years, and it was easy for Deryn to find a dress that hung nicely over her thin frame without getting lost in layers of silk and bustles. However, her silken slippers pinched her feet and her hair looked too . . . nice. She frowned at her reflection and ran a hand through her chin-length hair, lightly at first, then giving it a nice hard tousle before smoothing it back down.

_That's better_, she thought. _Not quite so uptight_.

Still, something wasn't quite right yet. Deryn scanned the room until her eyes landed on what they sought. She hurriedly kicked off her soft slippers and marched over to a pair of muddy boots that were tucked underneath a chair. She had had to give up her rubber-soled boots when she turned in her middie's uniform when leaving the Air Service, but Dr. Barlow had kindly outfitted her with a similar pair for her work with the Zoological Society. Deryn pulled on what she referred to as her "clart-kicking boots" and checked her reflection one last time.

This time she gave a satisfied sigh. She felt like herself again, albeit in a silly white dress. The boots were barely visible beneath the long dress, and with the combination of her ruffled hair and the long white dress she felt almost jaunty.

Pretty, even.

Deryn flashed herself a smile before heading out the dressing room door to meet her waiting fiancé.


	2. Chapter 2

The dinner was going to last forever, Deryn was sure of it. The ceremony itself had been a blur, and all Deryn remembered was seeing Alek beaming at her while she walked down the aisle with Jaspert on her arm. Before she knew it, she was standing up there exchanging vows, and Alek was giving her a gentle kiss, whispering "I love you" before he pulled away. It was pure dead romantic, and she didn't even mind that moony look in his eyes this time. The two of them had grinned at each other like a right pair of fools before trotting back down the aisle together, so glad to finally be husband and wife.

The problem was that while they were overjoyed to be together, they didn't have a moment alone before being whisked away to this interminable reception dinner. There were the mandatory speeches, then a few traditional Austrian folk dances, followed by Jaspert, who had decided that if the Clankers had to insert their traditions into the wedding, then he should follow them up with some proper Scottish bagpiping. Too bad that Jaspert wasn't a proper bagpiper to begin with, and he mostly succeeded in honking out half a song before he took mercy on the group and finished by singing the rest.

The happy couple was in the middle of the fifth course of their unending meal when Deryn shifted uncomfortably in her chair. "I can't wait to get out of this barking dress," she sighed.

"I can't wait until we get you out of it either," Alek murmured in her ear, causing Deryn to choke on the water she was sipping on. Deryn Sharp was no prude, but she was used to dishing out the dirty talk, not receiving it from the ever-proper Alek. "Alek!" she cried, sounding shocked, pleased, and a little proud. He ducked his head, blushing but grinning. Oh, how that boy could blush. Deryn seemed to make a game out of making him redden, but here he had managed to do it to himself.

"Sorry, _liebe_, I'm just so anxious to get out of here and finally be alone together."

"You and me both, daftie," Deryn started to say, but was interrupted by the earth rumbling beneath her feet. A loud crash came from outside the reception hall and the building shook, knocking the guests off their chairs and onto the floor. . .


	3. Chapter 3

The floor rumbled as Deryn struggled to find her footing amongst the layers of her dress.

"Barking skirts," she muttered as she was tossed back on her bum.

She was knocked back into something solid and warm, and an arm closed around her chest. Before she could scream out, Alek's voice came from behind her.

"Got you," he said.

Deryn twisted around in his grip while he pulled them both under the table. He looked as scared as she felt. The war had been wrapping up in the last few months, thanks in part to Alek's diplomatic work, but they both knew Britain wasn't out of danger yet. Alek and Deryn were both soldiers at heart, and this smelled like danger to their instincts. A boom rang out on the other side of the wall, followed by the sound of the pneumatic workings of a machine.

A very large machine.

"Clankers!" Deryn hissed.

The sound of metal hitting the wall made the room shake, followed by shrieks from the wedding guests and the clatter of plates and silverware hitting the ground. Bits of plaster fell from the ceiling and rained onto the floor. Another crash against the wall caused cracks to show in the plaster, while the glass chandelier above the table danced and swung dangerously. A final boom and the machine was through the wall, tilting forward ominously. It was a Stormwalker, just as Deryn had feared. The explosion of machine through wall caused a spray of plaster, coating Alek and Deryn's faces, hair, and clothes.

Deryn spat out a mouthful of dust and looked down at herself and groaned. So much for looking nice on her wedding day. She couldn't even manage to look half-way decent in a dress for a few hours without somehow ruining the barking thing! She glanced back at the walker and realized it hadn't moved since it burst through the wall. In fact, through the dust swirling around the machine, she could see that it appeared to be stuck halfway in the room. This was her chance. She slowly moved from her crouched position under the table and reached toward a steak knife that had landed near her feet.

"What are you doing?" Alek hissed.

"Cover me," Deryn replied.

Alek knew she was going to do something stupid, but he also knew he wasn't likely to stop his new wife once she had her mind set on something. He also knew that of all the people in the room, the two of them had the most military training and had a responsibility to try and intervene.

Deryn stood upright and faced the walker. She swept her now-dirty dress up, revealing her boots (she knew they'd be good for something today) and shouted out, "Oi, Clanker! You ruined my dress!"

Taking a running start, Deryn leapt at the walker with knife in hand and Alek close behind. She climbed up the front, only slipping twice due to the excess fabric, and made her way to the front of the pilot's cabin. Deryn paused when she heard rustling inside, followed by some muffled shouting.

"Get out here, you bumrag! You've gone and ruined my wedding, and scared my guests have to death!" she shouted.

Deryn heard more muffled shouts then the pneumatic rise of the pilot's window. She braced herself for the attack. She was ready, and she was face to face with . . . Newkirk.

"Newkirk! What in blazes-?"

Newkirk, out of breath and sweating, with hair plastered to his forehead, puffed out, "I made it! I didn't—think—I could—do it."

"Newkirk! I almost killed you!" She looked down at her steak knife. "Or, almost sliced you, anyway. What are you on about?"

Now that the immediate sense of danger was subsiding, Deryn's alarm was slowly sliding into annoyance—a familiar feeling where Newkirk was involved. Newkirk explained how on the way to the wedding he had caught some German soldiers skulking about near the reception site, and after a tussle he managed to knock them out. When he saw that their backup was on the way, he quickly climbed into their vehicle and waddled off with it. Unfortunately, he didn't have a barking clue as to how to pilot a Clanker walker, and ended up just stumbling into the building like a drunkard. It hadn't been an attack at all, but Newkirk fumbling about with the controls.

Alek helped Newkirk out of the machine and onto the floor while the rest of the wedding guests attempted to recover from the shock of the apparent attack. Once he had regained his composure, Newkirk took a look around him, embarrassed at the wreckage he had caused. He turned to say so to Alek, but was distracted by Deryn's appearance. He had never seen her dressed as a proper girl before. His eyes swept over her, taking in the dusty hair, the dirty wedding dress, and the dried mud on her boots. He grinned.

"Midshipman Sharp, looking dashing as ever, eh?"

Deryn rolled her eyes. "Don't start with me, Newkirk, or I'll have to clock you. Now let's see if we can enjoy the rest of this wedding." She took him by the arm and led him over to her guests so he could begin his apologies. The sooner he did that, the sooner she could get some much needed alone time with her new husband.


End file.
